


i like your body.  (i like what it does, i like its hows)

by InsidiousIntent



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex & Body, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Tenderness, This is my take on the time after Season 2 but before Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 21:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30028422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsidiousIntent/pseuds/InsidiousIntent
Summary: It’s been months now, but their rituals are still soothing. They can’t always be together, but they always make sure to set aside the weekends to themselves.
Relationships: Forrest Long/Alex Manes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	i like your body.  (i like what it does, i like its hows)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the ee cummings poem. 
> 
> For the server, and all the wonderful fandom friends who accept and love me <3

* * *

The darkness of the night makes it more intimate. Two bodies undulate, only skin, close and tight on a large bed. Alex tucks in close into the circle of heat, leaning into strong thighs, curls his legs in close to him. Forrest is a line of warmth around him, and he gently scrapes Alex’s scalp now. 

Alex leans into the feeling of comfort and warmth, but holds himself tight in a ball. He holds his elbows inside his thighs, locked away from wandering. His hands dance around his knees, trying not to touch the stump, but he feels the emptiness still. 

Alex feels the ache now, not only the emotional ache of having lost a part of his body. The physical aches, the soreness of the muscles in his thighs and torso. The way his back had curved and arched when they fucked, the way Forrest had moved his fingers inside him, opening him up slowly then with urgency. He still feels it, achy and hollow and perfect. 

Alex rubs his thighs together, feeling the pull of exertion, and he likes that ache, the reality of it, the physicality of it. 

Alex loves the anchor of sex, of  _ this  _ sex. He likes the memories it leaves on his body, the way he can reach out again and refresh it. The ways in which it isn’t always sexy but still lets him float for a while that becomes sexy eventually. The pain is the sensation that reminds him that someone likes him, just him, just Alex Manes. Likes him enough to hold him, to own him, that Forrest wants him. 

It’s been months now, but their rituals are still soothing. They can’t always be together, but they always make sure to set aside the weekends to themselves. Alex is new to this, the stability, the domesticity, and he needs the safety of a routine. He knows Forrest had his doubts early on, worried about things getting boring, Alex being bored. But Alex likes this, the certainty, the repetition, the comfort of knowing Forrest will be here, every Friday night. 

His mind shies away from the old memories, of broken promises, and emotional landmines at every corner. This is good now, what he has with Forrest. It is safe. 

The night always starts with dinner together, cooking, eating, enjoying the night. The wine always helps, just enough to remove the burden of the day. The constant obedience of the Air Force hierarchy, the frequent turmoil of the residents of Roswell. He never knows when to switch off the compliance instinct, and when to stand his ground. Old friends out of sync, new friends too new to have any sync. Knowing he’s coming back home on Friday nights to a dinner date, to Forrest who doesn’t need him to be anything else but himself, that’s real comfort. 

Forrest stirs on the bed, breaking the rhythm of his fingers on Alex’s scalp, and hums. A wordless question to check. Alex nods a little, letting him know that he’s alright.

Forrest moves his shoulder a little, “move up here, Alex,” he whispers. Alex unfolds himself, shimmies up to face Forrest. Forrest doesn’t say anything more, the darkness of the night and the warmth of the bed are enough to understand. 

The kiss is soft, soft and slow. Alex’s lips move over Forrest’s, familiar and sweet. They stay in that rhythm of mouths moving over each other, hands holding each other, legs entangled. They kiss because they can, and because there is no urgency to do anything else, to be anything else, go anywhere else. 

Forrest pulls him closer, wraps a hand around Alex’s waist and flips over him. The kiss deepens in a way that feels real, that feels good. Forrest’s hand touches his hip, too-light and still trembling, and Alex, lays his own hand over it, presses it down firmly, encouraging Forrest to curl his fingers. His body is into that, the desire in him is into it. Forrest understands, and digs his thumb in just inside the long bone arch of Alex’s hip as his fingers, outside, dig into the muscle of it. Alex likes the gesture for what it says, the way Forrest covers him, solid and present and a lover who knows what Alex likes, wants to give Alex the pleasure he desires. 

Forrest pushes down, a delightful frisson going through Alex from contact of skin to skin. 

Alex rolls his hips a little, there is no urgency, just a slow drag build of honey like heat. Forrest ducks his head down and mouths at Alex’s shoulder, groans softly. Alex wants and wants more and doesn’t know how to put his want into words. The desire sticks to this throat, behind his teeth. He wants to be pulled closer, to be held. Comforted. Wanted. 

_ Loved. _

Forrest must understand, he is so good to Alex that way, because he puts his left leg over Alex’s hip and pulls him close. Yes. Yes this is what he wants, their erections creating the best friction ever. Alex closes his eyes and sees the star bursts of pleasure with that slight line of pain, red and blue and green. A rainbow spectrum of desire, of joy. 

A groan bubbles out of his throat, instead of words it’s just a moan. He gets a bite for his trouble, just a roam of teeth on his throat and shoulders that makes him moan again. The room is filled with just their breathing, their gasps, the slick sound of their bodies moving together, the creak of the bed. 

Forrest whispers his name, and Alex knows the pleasure is building, his body is responding to the way Forrest moves faster now, hips snapping a little more, seeking more. Alex’s knee digs into the mattress, seeking purchase, mouth seeking Forrest’s. Their kiss is more of just shared breaths, gasping,  _ dancing _ . He feels the urgency in his own body, the way he wants that climax now more, and pressing. 

It almost feels like they come together, one right after the other. Forrest groans low and heavy and Alex follows him right after, relief flooding his body. The starburst behind his eyelids turned supernova. 

They fall back side by side, face still turned towards each other, legs almost still tangled. Sweat pools on Alex’s back, and around his temple, a cool contrast to his flushed skin. Forrest fumbles off after a moment, going to the bathroom to clean and returning with a washcloth. Alex waves his hands in a vague go ahead sign at him, and Forrest chuckles before slowly and carefully cleaning Alex up. 

Alex feels his eyelids getting heavier, and only vaguely registers the bed dipping with Forrest’s return. An arm snakes up to his waist and Alex turns, wanting to recreate that feeling of warmth from earlier. Of being held. Forrest’s lips brush the side of his neck as sleep tries to stake claim on his body and mind. 

His body still felt jagged most days, aches and pains and memories of old trying to mix together. But this was safe, this was good. Alex focused on the safety of the warm circle around his body, and drifts off to dream of rainbows and starbursts. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](https://insidious-intent.tumblr.com/)


End file.
